


Vessel

by kcstories



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Angst, Dark, Dark fic, F/M, Manipulation, Murder, Not fluffy fare, Post-War, hp_darkfest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-21
Updated: 2010-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-06 13:02:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcstories/pseuds/kcstories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ginny Weasley has a secret. She misses Tom Riddle desperately and will stop at nothing to bring him back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vessel

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** Written for the 2008 round of hp_darkfest @ LJ. Please make sure you've read the warnings before you proceed; this is not fluffy fare.  
> **Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter or anything you recognise from the books (or films). The quotes "It's for some stupid, noble reason, isn't it?" and "a silly little girl" were taken straight from the books.  
> **Warnings:** Angst, violence, major character death, semi-graphic non-con (or dub-con depending on your point of view. In either case, I've added a warning for rape; I'd hate to trigger or squick anyone), manipulation, implied future incest, potion misuse.

"He's dead," people say over and over again, as though in their heart of hearts, they still need convincing. "Harry Potter killed him."

Meanwhile, all over the country, the celebrations continue, because the world is saved and the monster vanquished; gone for good.

Except…

Nothing is ever forgotten.

Nothing truly disappears.

*

_It's easy to dismiss ripples this small. Not a soul suspects they're just biding their time, waiting for the perfect tempest to help them wash the whole world away._

*

Ginny Weasley has a secret.

She misses Tom Riddle desperately. Day and night, she yearns for him, and she hopes and prays with all her might that some day soon, he'll be by her side again.

She hangs on to that hope like it's her only lifeline.

Perhaps it is.

*

_The trouble with hope is that it's a terribly fickle thing._

_It's treacherous, too, because it crops up all the time, out of nowhere. Its misleading signs appear in any place you care to look, provided you look long enough and don't mind squinting._

_Sometimes hope is far crueller than despair, especially when despair is something you've grown used to, and what may seem like a lifeline is really a noose wound tightly around your neck._

*

Ginny is of age now and smart enough to handle him. Of that, she is quite certain.

He won't hurt her anymore. He can't. He won't even want to.

After all, she'll provide him with her invaluable assistance.

The no man's land between life and death doesn't agree with him, nor will he be able to occupy it forever.

Even after his counterpart's demise, his power is waning fast.

His spirit needs a vessel.

Ginny can definitely help him with that.

*

_Tom Riddle deserves to be alive more than Harry Bloody Potter does._

_Harry Bloody Potter seems to be plagued by a mortal fear of life itself; which may be ironic from a certain angle, but never funny; not even close._

*

Ginny lies back on the bed and sighs deeply as a warm breeze brushes her cheek like a caressing breath.

All her family members have gone out.

A few months ago, they finally stopped watching over her constantly.

They no longer worry about a second suicide attempt, or at least that possibility doesn't occur to them as often as it used to.

The first time was really an accident. A complicated spell—one _he_ taught her—backfired. Obviously, this wasn't something she could explain to them, so they believed what they chose to.

They still do today. "She hasn't been the same since that night in the Chamber," they tell anyone who dares to ask.

It's not exactly a lie, but by God, they don't even know the half of it.

*

_It's not about them._

_It's not even about her._

_It's about him._

_It has always been him._

*

They have hopes, too; high hopes for her.

She can see it in their eyes.

Every time she leaves her room and ventures out into the nearby village, they regard it as a sign of recovery; her mental health is finally improving.

They believe that one day she might be normal again; the bright, bubbly Ginny they used to know.

The truth might just rip their world apart, so she must keep it from them at all costs.

*

_Tom sends her on errands to collect books and herbs and even a silver dagger once. He tells her what to read and for how long she must study._

_She always complies without question and she never asks for explanations because she knows that some day…._

_Some day soon._

_There is no time to waste on idle chatter._

*

Out of nowhere, thick dark clouds block out the midday sun.

The warm breeze turns icy.

Ginny shivers, but only briefly, for the sudden chill can only mean one thing.

"Ginevra."

She hasn't a clue whether that voice even exists outside her head, but that little detail isn't of much importance.

It's Tom.

He haunts her still, and always has done, ever since they first met, long ago when she was an insecure little girl and he was nothing but wonderful, well-chosen words on yellowed parchment.

His expressions of empathy and admiration captivated her from the very start.

One might say she never stood a chance.

*

_Tom understands her like no else one can._

_He adores her like no other man ever will._

_In turn, she'd do anything for him._

_Anything at all._

*

She was fourteen the first time he spoke to her again.

"It was an unfortunate accident," he explained, referring to her near-death in the Chamber. "I never intended to hurt you, Ginevra; I was only after Harry Potter."

Tom never mentioned what he called her that night—'a silly little girl'—but then neither did she, even though she would never forget those cruel words.

She needed so badly to believe him. Her sanity—if not her whole world—depended on it.

*

  
_Dead or alive, Tom Riddle seems to attract unfortunate accidents. They often have a lethal outcome._

_*_

"Bring me back," the voice whispers. "Time is precious, my dearest, and ours is running out."

"Yes," she says, her determined words echoing through the empty room, "I shall."

Ginny knows what must be done. She has been aware of it for years.

Harry Potter was always Tom's choice, certainly never her own. More often than not, she believes she is only wasting valuable time and energy by focusing solely on that boy, especially after what happened in her fifth year.

She briefly dated Harry back then, until he abruptly ended their relationship; supposedly for her own safety.

_"It's for some stupid, noble reason, isn't it?"_

Today, she rolls her eyes at the memory—she can almost laugh about it, even—but at the time, it was all rather painful.

Tom wasn't amused either.

Fortunately, in hindsight, things worked out far better than expected.

Harry went off and fulfilled his destiny, blissfully unaware that by sending one Dark Lord to his doom, he'd made room for a new one to rise.

*

_"You're the only one I'll ever share my power with. You'll be by my side forever, my equal, and the whole world will lie at our feet."_

_Tom's promise was empty, but his words warmed her regardless._

_Even today, it doesn't matter that it is all a lie._

_She couldn't care less about his power._

_She only wants him._

*

Tom's wishes are plain, but hardly simple.

Ginny must seduce Harry and mother his child, though technically, the kid won't be a Potter. It will be the vessel they require.

Ginny has already tried to lure Harry into her bed on numerous occasions.

On his eighteenth birthday, she almost succeeded. Almost, but not quite. There were…. complications and moreover, Harry—sweet, sickeningly noble Harry—didn't seem all that interested to begin with.

Once more, Tom was gravely displeased at the unexpected turn of events.

Ginny suggested that seducing another boy—Dean, perhaps; or possibly Neville—might be equally useful.

Tom vehemently disagreed. He refused to even listen to her arguments.

Reasonable arguments they were too, she thought, but he insisted that only Potter's blood would get the job done.

_ "He's the only one who has managed to vanquish me. He has something, a kind of skill or a power, that enables him to defeat me. If my soul were to take possession of his flesh and blood, that might make my new incarnation, that might make me, invincible! Therefore, Harry Potter is the one we need, Ginevra, no one else."_

She supposes that line of reasoning makes sense, but even if Tom got it wrong, a vindictive part of her, one she'd never show to her nearest and dearest, has no real qualms about hurting Harry.

The memories of his many rejections still sting. Not a lot, but on a bad day, enough to make her left eye twitch.

*

_Who does Harry Potter think he is, anyway?_

*

When she gets downstairs, the kitchen is empty.

Harry is up in his room, brooding or moping or whatever it is he does up there, day in day out.

He never got over Sirius' death. He never stopped mourning any of the other casualties either. He still feels guilty for every single one of them.

No matter. He won't have to worry about all that for much longer. Just a few more weeks and he'll be put out of his misery.

*

_Perhaps it isn't merely Tom she is saving._

_Or so she keeps telling herself on those rare occasions when conscience threatens to interfere with her sense of duty or when her inner Gryffindor tries to make her forget where her true loyalties lie._

*

It's a smelly, complicated concoction, but with Tom's detailed instructions, it's laughably easy to brew. He's a far better teacher than Professor Snape ever was.

_"Add some extra honey, Ginevra. It will conceal the odd taste. Potter won't notice a thing."_

She takes a deep breath before climbing the stairs.

When she reaches her destination, she doesn't bother to knock.

Harry is lying on the bed. He's dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a chequered shirt that has also seen better days.

He's not as attractive as he once was and looking back, she has trouble comprehending the crush she once had on him.

Of course that was before Tom came along.

She was so young, then. So stupid. Of so many things she knew so very little before she met Tom.

Harry groggily sits up and rubs his eyes.

"I brought you some tea," Ginny says. "You didn't come down for brunch, so…"

"I-I had a nightmare," Harry mutters. "I didn't sleep much last night, so I thought I'd have a nap now, but..."

Tom's mocking laughter rings through her head. _"He's pathetic, isn't he? The poor, tormented hero."_

She doesn't bother to reply; not even in her mind. They've been through this before. It's partly down to jealousy on Tom's part, she knows, but that doesn't make it any less true.

Though she does empathise with Harry, sometimes.

He grew up without a loving family and then spent his teenage years being hounded by a Dark wizard; in mortal peril and afraid to love, in case those loved ones ended up in danger too.

And now that the Dark Wizard is gone, Harry seems afraid to live and to seize the moment; unlike Tom, who wants nothing more than to be flesh and blood again.

*

_First he'll become her child, and at eighteen, her lover._

_It's all so wrong, twisted, messed up._

_Society won't understand, but that's of no importance._

_By the time the truth comes out, no one will be asking any questions._

_Everyone will be too busy fearing for their lives, and only those who are worthy will be spared._

*

The words are clear and their tone is confident. _"It'll be fine, my love. You'll see."_

_Yes, Tom. Just fine._

Her gaze rests on the empty cup on the bedside table.

"Do you still love me, Harry?" she asks.

Part of her must know. A lost little girl used to wonder and while technically that girl is dead now and has been for years, she still deserves some closure.

Harry looks at her, his green eyes already glazy from the potion.

"Yes, Ginny. Of course I do."

*

_"I'm the only one who ever truly loved you, Ginevra. Potter didn't even notice you before you had developed curves, unless it was to mock you or to complain to all and sundry what a burden his best friend's sister was, constantly following him around like a needy little puppy."_

_Tom may have been cruel in his honesty, but he was also right in his assessment._

_Harry Potter doesn't deserve her._

*

Ginny's hands roam down his body.

He's even skinnier than he was a few months ago and paler than she has ever seen him.

She isn't surprised. He rarely eats and hardly ever leaves his grubby room. The hero has turned into a hermit. What a waste.

He gazes up at her, his expression blank.

Her pale, freckled fingers don't tremble as they undo his trousers. "You're so amazing, Harry," she whispers huskily, not meaning a syllable.

He gasps, struggling for breath like he's expecting to die very soon.

It's not far from the truth.

Ginny doesn't bother with affection, or even foreplay. She quickly removes her dress and knickers and positions herself on top of him.

He is already hard. Of course he is. He's a teenage boy, for one, and the potion has helped here, too.

Ginny flinches, just momentarily, as she pushes him inside her.

This isn't at all how she pictured losing her virginity, but at least she's in control. He won't hurt her. As far as she can tell, he barely knows what's happening.

Slowly, she begins to move.

She knows this won't last for very long, nor will it bring her much pleasure. That suits her fine, though, just so long as she conceives.

She looks down at him and when heir gazes inadvertently meet, she forces herself not to look away. She has no reason to feel guilty. She is doing this for Tom.

Harry's mouth opens, but it's another voice that speaks.

_"Close your eyes, my sweet Ginevra."_

Gasping, she does, and immediately begins to move faster.

He moves with her. His hands roughly grab her waist and pull her closer. He thrusts upwards, filling her completely.

"Tom," she whispers, over and over again, until every cell of her body feels like it's on fire. "Tom!"

Harry's horrified screams pierce the room, but all Ginny can hear is the triumphant laughter in her head.

*******

Two months later, for the third morning in a row, Ginny wakes up sick to her stomach.

She knows what that means.

A test—a Muggle one, to Tom's horror—confirms her suspicions, and a visit to the Mediwitch solidifies them.

She is expecting.

*

_When she shuts her eyes, she can almost see him standing in front of her; handsome and brilliant and utterly perfect._

_A wistful smile plays around her lips._

_It is only a matter of months now._

*

That night, when everyone else at The Burrow has already gone to bed, Ginny sneaks up to Harry's room to give him the news.

It leaves him looking slightly guilty.

Courtesy of Tom's potion, the memories Harry has of that night aren't his own.

He vividly recalls that he was the one who instigated everything. In his mind, he did the seducing, ignoring possible consequences in favour of the thrill of the moment. He was reckless and irresponsible, for the first time in absolutely ages.

When Ginny expresses her wish to keep the baby, Harry's apprehension instantly turns into relief.

Smiling widely, he speaks of a spring wedding and more children; at least two of them, perhaps even four.

He'll marry her, he says, and together they'll raise the large, loving family he has always longed for.

*

_Ginny had similar dreams once._

_When she was eleven and nowhere near as smart as she is now, she would have given her whole world to one day become Mrs. Harry Potter._

_Today she's not particularly surprised that Harry never stops to enquire about her wishes. He just assumes they mirror his own._

_Funny how everyone seems convinced they can make decisions in her stead. Funny how everyone treats her as though she's completely brainless and without a will of her own._

_(Some day, they'll be sorry.)_

*

The following week, Harry buys a flat in London.

Despite her mother's protests, Ginny immediately moves in with him.

She has good reasons for disobeying. She can do without the prying eyes of potential witnesses.

Over the next few months, she and Harry live as man and wife, though much to Ginny's relief, they aren't intimate again.

One afternoon, she hears that familiar voice.

_"Our time has come, Ginevra."_

  
*

_Yet again she tells herself that this delusion is a merciful end._

_Harry Potter will die a hopeful man, and that's a kinder fate than befalls most people._

*

Harry never notices that the slice of almond cake he shovels into his mouth tastes just a tad too bitter.

*

_"It's a necessary sacrifice, Ginevra. It's for the greater good, you see, and moreover…"_

_The silence, though brief, is thick and chills her to the bone._

_"What if he'd try to kill me again?"_

*

  
"I'm tired," Ginny says, giving an exaggerated yawn as she rises from the sofa. "I think I'll head up to bed."

"All right, love."

Harry doesn't realise that her softly spoken goodnight has a sinister undertone, nor does he recognise a Judas kiss when he feels it.

"I'll join you in a few minutes," he says.

It's the only promise he will never keep.

It doesn't matter. No part of her expects him to.

  
*


End file.
